


all the stars above

by clokkerfoot



Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Asexual Steve Rogers, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, technically, this dumb boy got about 8 flags flying i s2g
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:53:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6924871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clokkerfoot/pseuds/clokkerfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky meet up in Club A a few days after Bucky arrives at the Academy, and end up going for a walk around campus. Kissing happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all the stars above

The campus civil war—that’s what Tony called it—had cleared up without too many problems. Fury had gotten back from his month-long trip with the rest of the tutors and found the campus in a mess. Towards the end of it Sam and T’Challa were actually brawling in front of the dorm, fists and all, and Fury was _not_ happy. Steve had tried to stay out of it all, despite being one of the main instigators—again, Tony’s label. He hated to see his friends fighting over stupid, trivial things, and he was relieved to see it end.

But God, if he wasn't exhausted. Fury had put them all on probation for a week, just until the air cleared and everyone sobered up from the tension of it all, and most of Steve’s classmates had gone their separate ways: Wasp and Kamala had left the Academy for a few days and gone on a vacation; Sam and T’Challa were hiding out in the Embassy while they worked out their differences; Nat was spending half her time in the blasting range; Sharon and Maria were spending most of their time together in the library; Enchantress and Loki were… doing whatever they did in the forge. Where the others were, Steve didn’t know, but the campus was quiet.

Everyone had something to do, somewhere to go. Except Steve. He’d worked out his frustrations on the boxing bag for a couple of hours, and now he was just bored. Club A was empty, save for Tony’s flirty robot that manned the bar, so Steve had settled in one of the barstools with a glass of whiskey and resolved to get thoroughly drunk. Or, as drunk as he could get. Steve had an insanely high alcohol tolerance, for some reason, and he could chug five times what his classmates could without feeling even vaguely tipsy. It sucked, seeing as he was a college student and there were certain standards to maintain, but at least it meant he could be the designated driver (or walker) and get everyone home safe.

Steve moved onto his second glass of whiskey. Unsurprisingly, the robot barman winked at him—or flashed one of its eerie eyes—and Steve grimaced until it walked away. It wasn't even a female robot, as far as he could see. Considering Tony designed it, Steve would've assumed the robot would have curves out to _there_ , but he’d gone for the gender neutral look.

 _Thank God_ , Steve thought to himself as he threw back the glass of whiskey. He could deal with men or even ambiguously appearing people flirting with him, but the second there were breasts and curves and pretty lips thrown into the mix he lost his nerve. There was no explanation for it, other than the fact Steve was utterly enamoured with all the women in his life, and that overwhelming affection tended to throw him over a bit. Sorta ruined the dating scene for him, but he was fine with that. He’d never really had much success with relationships, anyway.

He nudged his shield with his foot. For once, he didn't have it strapped to his back, and it was resting against the front of the bar instead. Steve signalled for another whiskey, and the barman happily poured him another. He knocked it back with ease, sucked his cheeks in at the foul bite of the alcohol, then placed the empty glass on the bar with a thud.

“See you never lost your tolerance for alcohol,” a voice said from the entrance to the bar. “You used to knock drinks back like they were goin’ out of fashion.”

Steve looked up. Bucky was stood in the doorway. He’d taken his hoodie off and now had it slung over his folded arms, pressed close to his chest. Bucky was still a new student, really, so he still looked like he felt out of place. Steve thought he’d never looked more at home, smiling at Steve in a student bar.

“Hey,” Steve said, softly. He held up two fingers at the barman, who wordlessly obliged and poured two glasses of whiskey. Steve held one out for Bucky, who wandered over and sat down on the second barstool from Steve, then accepted the drink. Steve sipped at his whiskey rather than chugging it, just to keep the atmosphere calm. He cleared his throat. “How are you settling in?”

Bucky shrugged, “It’s alright. Nat wants me to go to the range with her.”

Steve chuckled, “Yeah, she does that a lot. First week I was here, she dragged me off to the range twice a day, easy. You'll get used to her. She’s a good, honest kid. Just a bit intense is all.”

Bucky hummed and swallowed a mouthful of whiskey. He wrinkled his nose and placed the mostly-full glass on the bar. Steve called the barman over and asked for a soft drink, instead. Bucky looked more comfortable with a tall glass of lemonade in his hand than he did with a tumbler of whiskey, and Steve smiled at him.

“Why’re you smiling?” Bucky asked, flatly. His shoulders tensed up, like Steve was about to jump him or something. His t-shirt was too tight, so Steve could see every line of tension across his torso. It sucked to see Bucky so fraught. “Don't laugh at me.”

“I'm not laughing at you!” Steve objected. He set his glass down and held his hands up in the air. Bucky stared at him apprehensively, his expression wary and downright _scared_ , but some of the tightness left his shoulders. Steve lowered his hands and tried to busy himself with something so he wouldn't reach out and touch Bucky before he was ready for it.

Bucky had come into the Academy shy and, well, jumped up on adrenaline most of the time. He tucked himself away in a corner at his introductory get-together with the rest of his new classmates—before everyone separated and took a few days away from it all—and he hardly spoke to anyone. Nat took a shine to him, as she did with most people who kept quiet and didn’t annoy her (Steve still wasn't sure why she liked _him_ , as he was one of the more talkative Avengers), but other than her and Steve, Bucky hadn't really bonded with everyone else.

It was okay, Steve figured. He was new to college, new to the lifestyle that came with it, so it was understandable that he was nervous. Steve just… remembered the guy he used to like. _That_ guy, the one Steve’d _maybe_ been half in love with when he was younger, the one who’d stuck with him through all the highs and lows of school and work and illness and everything else that came with it. Bucky was there when Steve got his shield, got his name, earned his place in the world. And he smiled through it all.

Now, Bucky wasn't really whole. He was missing something, some part of himself. Steve didn't know _what_ , exactly, but it made him sad.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Steve asked, quietly. Bucky looked like he wanted to bolt, anyway. A bit of fresh air might do him some good.

Bucky stared at him. “And go where?”

Steve shrugged. “That doesn't matter, does it?” He smiled as he stood up from his barstool and clipped his shield onto his back, then watched as Bucky gathered up his hoodie. He gestured at the exit and Bucky headed slowly over to it. Steve paid the barman, who beeped appreciatively, and then he followed Bucky to the door.

They stepped out into the cool evening air together, and Bucky quickly shrugged his hoodie back on. Steve started walking, with no destination in mind, and Bucky followed him close behind. It wasn’t too late, really, and Steve could faintly hear Nat in the range and someone working in the outdoor gym—Clint, probably, if he was back from his internship—so the campus would be open and welcoming for a few more hours at least. They had all the freedom they could've wished for.

“Where are we going?” Bucky asked again. He was shivering a little from the icy breeze that was blowing through the miniature streets of the campus, and Steve resisted the temptation to hug him. Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder instead, and was relieved when he didn't flinch away.

“Where do _you_ want to go?”

Bucky shook his head, “I don't know. I don't know this place.”

“Then we’ll just walk.” Steve said, decisively. And they did. They wandered past Club Galaxy, which was right beside Club A on the ‘party strip’. The ‘party strip’ also had the shawarma bar, the regular dorm and the Maverick dorm, the ‘beach’, the fighting arena, and the dojo. Bucky asked why Club Galaxy was so different to everything else—and it was, with all its bright lights and bold colours—and Steve briefly explained the catastrophe of the last inter-school visit, where some of the Guardians students had come to stay for a month.

Bucky laughed softly when Steve told him about Gamora and Peter, and how they had stuck around because of the _quality vibes, man_! The two of them must've been inside the club, as Steve could definitely hear the faint sounds of Gamora playing her guitar. She hardly ever played without Peter there to dance to her music, and they had customised Club Galaxy to the extreme, so it was practically their home.

They walked past the gym and the blasting range. Nat was in the range, as she usually was, but it wasn't Clint in the gym as Steve had thought. Tony was there in his usual clothes, running on the treadmill. He didn't pay any attention to Steve and Bucky when they passed, and simply ignored them, staring straight ahead with a frown on his face.

“He’s angry,” Bucky pointed out. He opened up more and more with every step they took, the previous blip in the club forgotten, and Steve could feel his own mood lifting accordingly. “Why?”

Steve hummed. “We had a bit of a disagreement a few weeks ago. He’s not quite forgiven me yet.”

“What did you disagree about?”

Steve didn't answer. He couldn't bring himself to be the reason Bucky retreated back into his shell again. He just shrugged and said _dumb stuff, doesn't matter_ , then continued to lead Bucky around the campus.

They walked aimlessly for another half hour or so, Bucky asking questions at fairly regular intervals. He smiled when Steve smiled, laughed when Steve laughed, and he even touched Steve on the arm once or twice. It was a subconscious reflex, but it meant he was warming back up to Steve, and that alone meant the _world_. He wanted to kiss Bucky about a hundred times, but that wasn't any different to how he usually felt. Even when Bucky was away for months and months, wherever he went, Steve still wanted to plant a couple of smackers on his lovely lips.

They ended up outside the Maverick dorm, where Bucky was living until there was space in the main dorm. Steve felt like he’d just walked Bucky home after a date, and there was a warm tension between them that indicated Bucky felt the same way.

“I feel like a dame,” Bucky grumbled, when Steve walked him up the path to the front door of the dorm.

Steve laughed, softly, and looked down at his shoes. He rocked back and forth on his heels, fixedly staring at his feet because he knew that if he looked up then he’d probably end up necking with the poor kid in front of him. God, he wanted to kiss Bucky. He _really_ wanted to. But Steve knew Bucky wasn't comfortable with that yet, wasn't comfortable with much of anything, so he stared at the toes of his shoes instead.

“Chrissake, come here,” Bucky said, suddenly, his voice urgent. Steve looked up, and was met with a mouthful of Bucky.

“Buck—” he started, against Bucky’s _so soft oh God_ lips, but Bucky silenced him by pressing even harder into him. He let his hands fall to Steve’s hips and pushed up against him with his body and his lips. Bucky didn't open his mouth, didn’t make it go beyond what it needed to be, and Steve was more than happy to stand there and let Bucky kiss the daylights outta him.

An hour could've passed before Bucky pulled back, and Steve wouldn't’ve noticed. He blinked twice, dumbly, when Bucky took a step away from him.

“I’ve been wantin’ to do that ever since I got here,” Bucky mumbled, “Sorry if that wasn’t—if that wasn't okay.”

Steve didn't answer. He re-took the step Bucky had taken, and kissed him again. This time it was Steve who put his hands on Bucky’s waist, and it was Bucky who made a happy little keening noise. Steve pushed him gently into the wall of the dorm, right beside the door, boxed him in with just his body, and Bucky practically vibrated against him. And Bucky’s lips were warm, soft, forgiving, sweet as sugar, everything Steve thought they would be. He smelled musty in a pleasant sort of way, in a way that made Steve think _I’m home, I’m home, I’m home_.

“Damn, Steve, get it!” someone hollered from behind Steve. Bucky broke away from Steve and shrank back against the wall, flushed from forehead to collar.

Steve turned around to find Natasha walking towards them with Sam and T’Challa in tow. T’Challa was grinning furiously, an expression Steve had never seen on his usually stoic and collected friend. Sam was cackling and slapping his thighs like he’d been plucked out of a country dance video, and Nat was just smiling.

“When you said you wanted to get to know Bucky again, I didn't think you meant like _this_.” Sam exclaimed. He gave a mock two-finger salute in Bucky’s direction, “Hey, cyb.”

“Hi, Sam,” Bucky said, quietly. He _waved_ , and Steve’s heart melted a little.

“You make a stunning couple,” T’Challa commented, the unnerving grin still playing out on his features even as he folded his arms nearly behind his back. “I _am_ surprised you didn’t do this sooner. Barnes has been here for almost a week.”

“He's been—he’s been settling in,” Steve stammered. He felt kinda angry, if anything. Bucky was cowering behind him like he was the new kid on his first day all over again, and all Steve’s progress that evening had gone to waste. He didn't want Bucky getting overwhelmed again, and he knew exactly how intense Nat, Sam and T’Challa could be when they all worked together. “Listen, guys, can we do this tomorrow? It's late.”

“Didn't stop _you_ ,” Nat said, a shit-eating grin on her face. “And in front of the _dorm_. Shame on you, Captain America! You should know better than to fornicate in public.”

Steve’s cheeks began to heat up, “We—we weren't _fornicating_ , Nat. I was just—Bucky was—we—”

“It was me.” Bucky said, suddenly. “I kissed him. Not the other way around.”

Steve was going to remember the identical _what the hell_ expressions on Sam, Nat and T’Challa’s faces for the rest of his life.

Thankfully, they dropped it after that. T’Challa and Sam wandered back to the Embassy together, and Nat headed back to her dorm, all three of them satisfied with their voyeurism for the evening. Bucky and Steve were left alone again. Steve figured that the three of them had all just been worried for Bucky. He was new, obviously very scared and vulnerable, and they probably assumed Steve was taking advantage of that. For a moment, Steve wondered if they were right, but then Bucky kissed him again and all his worries melted away.

“I'm not going to invite you up,” Bucky said against Steve’s lips. He was _smiling_ ; Steve could feel it.

“That’s okay,” Steve mumbled back. Their foreheads were pressed together, their lips brushing with every syllable and every word. Steve had butterflies in every inch of his body. “I don't want you to invite me up.”

“I’d be offended, but I know you ain't into all that stuff.”

“You know me too well,” Steve breathed, and he kissed Bucky _properly_. Bucky wrapped his arms loosely around Steve’s neck and took a step backwards until he was flush against the dorm wall. When Steve didn’t push against him, Bucky’s fingers pressed into his upper middle back and encouraged him, not letting up until Steve had Bucky jammed right up against the wall.

Steve shoved his knee between Bucky’s thighs after a minute or two. It wasn't _sexual_ —Bucky was right, _still_ right, Steve didn't like sex one bit; never had, never would—but it was nice to feel so close to someone he adored so completely. They locked together as easy as anything, and Bucky opened up for Steve like a blooming flower. Intimacy was something Steve had been missing out on, he thought, and it was heaven to finally get some of it, even if they _were_ in front of the Maverick dorm.

His lips hurt by the end of it, and he could taste Bucky’s lemonade. Bucky stayed back against the wall again when Steve stepped away, but this time he more… _slumped_ , than anything else. He was panting a little, his lips were cherry red, and his eyes were soft and heavy.

“Damn, you're a good kisser,” Bucky whispered. He ran his hand through his hair—it was longer than Steve had ever seen it, and he kinda liked it—then pulled at the V-collar of his t-shirt. “Got me all flustered.”

Steve smiled shyly and scuffed his toe of his shoe against the ground. “You're not so bad yourself.”

“You sucker,” Bucky said, fondly. He ruffled Steve’s hair, pressed a kiss to his temple, then retreated to the door of the dorm. Steve watched him, and waved as he ducked inside. Bucky’s head reappeared in the crack of the open door once he was inside, and he said, “Goodnight, Stevie.”

Steve grinned and silently thanked all the stars above for Bucky Barnes.

“Goodnight, Buck.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, so, I used my own in-game layout for this fic. So, I do actually have a 'party strip', and I just included it in here because it's fun! Also, I only used the characters I've unlocked so far (except Bucky, because he is ABSOLUTELY IMPOSSIBLE thus far), so don't judge meeeee. Aaahhhhh!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr [here](http://clokkerfoot.tumblr.com/).


End file.
